Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Personae Dramatis

I'm wet.

I could have meant that in many ways, but alas, much to your dismay, I meant soaked by rain. Stop getting so excited.

This weather is a right royal moody bastard and there's no telling what it wants to do next. Do you suppose the Gods get a sadistic pleasure out of watching me get drenched to the bone on the one day I wear my brand new jeans and classy high heels to work? I don't even know why I did that...just felt sex and the city-ish this morning and decided on turning some heads. Well, ok... I didn't turn any heads... but my dog looked mildly interested. It doesn't matter that it was only because he wanted to chew on the shoes.

Either way, there's nothing left to look at anymore, thanks to God and the heavenly watering can.

Oh well... life is damp anyway, so I might as well appreciate the irony of it all. I'm this close to handing in my resignation at work. The only thing keeping me from doing it is that I have still to come up with a dramatic enough way of doing it. Letters of notice and meek discussions with the management is not my style, you see. If I'm leaving, then I must leave them trembling and afraid to hire anyone else. I did that once before. I kid you not.

My first job at a financial company (Yes, reader, this bimbo can number-crunch) ended a few months into the stint with me marching up to the departmental manager and loudly claiming 'I quit' for reasons unknown to anyone (least of all me) and then before he could say anything, walking around the place saying good bye to everyone before packing my belongings and some extra office stationary into a box and sweeping out in grand style. It's how they did it on Ally McBeal and the show was all I had as a point of reference. In hindsight perhaps I should have followed the normal process, considering that the Company later threatened to take me to courts if I didn't. I also had to return the stationery. To this day they haven't noticed that when it was handed back, there was a stapler missing. Muahahaha.

In my defense, how was I to KNOW that dramatic exits weren't normal? My life would be meaningless if not for the paranormal behaviour. If I didn't have an episode on a daily basis, I'd be dead of boredom by now.

Just the other day I managed to outdo myself with the mother of all embarrassing moments. All because of an ant.

It had gotten into my denims, you see. Something to do with the chocolate wrapper that'd been resting on my clothes rack. Anyway, the ant had managed to wiggle it's way in and be worn by me. On my way to office, it started to express its alarm. I've encountered these things before and sometimes I like to test my ability to bear pain and itchiness so I ignored the stingy bites on my inner thigh until I got into the office elevator. At that point it got to me, and figuring that the ancient contraption they call a lift usually takes a good 5 minutes to get up to my floor, I decided to shove my hand into the front of my jeans and take the little guy out.

If I had been male, that last sentence would have landed me in prison.

As luck would have it, my bracelet managed to snag itself into the inner lining of my pants, rendering my hand un-extractable. And because the universe and I have that special understanding going, the elevator stopped and the door started opening. I tugged and pulled with all my might, but to no avail.

I had never gone red over any of my situations before this one. What was even redder was the face of the man standing on the other side of the lift, taking in the vision of me standing in front of him with my hand down my pants, jiggling it up and down. He coughed nervously, wondering whether to step in or not. I, in my supreme ability to react at lightening speed, turned around slowly and faced the wall and continued trying to pull my hand out. We continued upwards.Once we reached my floor, he turned and looked at me strangely and said "There are easier ways to keep your job, you know."

"Thanks", I muttered, as my boss stepped off the elevator in fits of laughter.